


Dead Of Night

by Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer



Series: And They Were Roommates [6]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Gen, Good Parent Martin Whitly, Insomnia, Malcolm Bright Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Parent Martin Whitly, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29344752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer/pseuds/Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer
Summary: Malcolm huffed a little, a rush of heat flushing across his face despite himself at what his father was insinuating. Which was certainly not what the cuffs were for at all, but even so, it wasn't really a discussion he wanted to have with his father. "Not that," he muttered, moving past him to put his phone down on the nightstand and check on Sunshine. "They're for the night terrors."
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly
Series: And They Were Roommates [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147352
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Dead Of Night

That night, Malcolm didn't sleep.

The apartment was usually so quiet, _dead_ quiet, at night. Then again, it was usually quiet anyway. With Martin, everything was suddenly alive; the television stayed on pretty much the whole day, and his father rarely seemed to shut his mouth throughout the whole day, always rambling on about something or other. Meanwhile, Malcolm had been busy with a list of his own; a list of rules. First, obviously, no murder. Second, no touching his weapons. Third, no touching his bed. Fourth - after he noticed the weird looks Martin continued to shoot Sunshine every so often - if Martin laid even a finger on his baby bird, Malcolm would take him to Gil so fast his head would spin. Other than that, Martin could stay and annoy him however long he wanted.

(However long this lasted. Malcolm wasn't sure how long it would.)

Malcolm gave his father a bundle of blankets and pillows and directed him to the couch, and left him to set up a place for himself to sleep while he retreated to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When he returned, taking his time brushing his teeth and changing and texting Jessica, Ainsley and Gil a quick 'goodnight', Malcolm left the bathroom to see Martin standing near his bed, having made up the couch rather neatly. He wasn't touching, just staring - at the cuffs.

"What are those for?" He asked without looking away, and frowned. "Wait, do I want to know? I-"

Malcolm huffed a little, a rush of heat flushing across his face despite himself at what his father was insinuating. Which was certainly _not_ what the cuffs were for at all, but even so, it wasn't really a discussion he wanted to have with his father. "Not _that,_ " he muttered, moving past him to put his phone down on the nightstand and check on Sunshine. "They're for the night terrors."

Martin had an unreadable expression on his face when Malcolm turned back to him after bidding Sunshine goodnight, something akin to discomfort. "Night terrors… they're _that_ bad?"

"Yeah." Malcolm hesitated, lingering where he stood for a moment. "Don't worry. I've got a mouth guard, so I won't be screaming _too_ loud," he added, only half-jokingly. Martin just stared at him, however, and the man sighed. "Yeah. I know. _This_ is why I don't have guests overnight."

Martin managed a smile then, but all things considered, it was rather weak.

Malcolm noticed his gaze didn't leave him until they shut the lights off and settled in to sleep.

It only took a few minutes for his father's snores to fill the room. Raising his eyebrows at the ceiling, wrists uncuffed, mouth guard untouched on his nightstand, Malcolm couldn't help but muse that that was going to take some getting used to. But it wasn't what was keeping him up tonight. He figured, for the most part, he'd adjusted to his father's presence. He'd gotten… not quite comfortable, but not as tense as he so often was around the man. A _part_ of him was comfortable. But right then, the part of him that still listened to the warning bells that went off in his head when he was in Martin's general vicinity was wide awake and completely on edge.

The thought of chaining himself to his own bed with his father a _serial killer_ in the room, not far away from him by any means, was enough to practically staple his eyelids wide open.

Of course, the child in him found Martin's rumbling snores to be a comfort of sorts. Not enough to lull him to sleep - but it was a sound he hadn't heard in a while, one he associated with peace and warmth and love. It didn't soothe his worries, ease his fears, but it didn't make them _worse._

Taking a breath, ignoring the anxiety pinching his stomach into knots, Malcolm shut his eyes.

He didn't sleep.

Not tonight.


End file.
